Death is but the Next Great Adventure
by titaniumroze
Summary: To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure. Series of short drabbles about each of the character's deaths. Taking requests.
1. James 31-10-81

**JAMES **

_31__st__ October 1981_

The night was clear, and the children scurrying from door to door in pursuit of treats were all in costumes. The date was October the 31st, 1981. Hallow's Eve. Or, as the locals knew it, Halloween.

A light dusting of snow covered the ground. It was the first of the year, abnormally early, but nobody thought odd of it.

The exception of that was a small family of three in a little cottage near the church. Many children avoided the house, because they were told that the occupants of it were 'weird'. Of course, if any of them saw the owner's of the house just in the streets, they wouldn't have thought anything strange of them.

That family was odd, but nothing compared to others.

A sweeping gaze of the area was made by a tall figure in a dark cloak. He had such of an intimidating aura that nobody dared to make eye contact with him. One look from his cold, expressionless eyes was enough to send them running away.

One brave child approached the cloaked figure.

"Excuse me, sir? You have a great costume." The cold fingers of the man twitched beneath his cloak, and the child seemed to sense that there was something wrong, as he scurried off. It would have been so easy to end his life right then, but it would have been worthless.

He smoothly glided to the front door of the small cottage and smiled at the scene in the window. This would be easy. Too easy.

A young man with black hair and glasses was sitting on the floor producing smoke rings with his wand while his redhead wife with green eyes laughed. In the middle of the two sat a boy in stripy blue pyjamas, no older than two years old.

He was almost the exact replica of his father - that was something the dark one could see from where he was standing.

The child was laughing and clapping his cherubic hands at his father. The whole scene was a happy one, but underlying all of this was the makings of something much darker and bigger.

A knock on the door would do for the mysterious figure. After all, it was only polite. Out of the corner of his red eye he could see the man toss his wand down and spring up to answer the door.

The man fingered his wand, running his fingers along the creases and texture of the wood. This would be simple.

The old wooden door swung open inwards, and the light framed the figure in black.

The second man didn't even have his wand. His expression of fear and surprise could have been almost comical, if it hadn't been for the seriousness of the situation.

The taller man of the two grasped the end of his wand and lazily pointed it at the messy hair covering the other's head.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!" the man in the house yelled. The terror on his face was more than the older man had ever seen. The cloaked on chuckled darkly at his words. Silly boy – he didn't even have his wand.

Voldemort raised his wand and pointed it directly between the two hazel eyes of the man.

"Avadra Kedavra!" he called, almost in a bored manner.

It was all over for the dark haired man.

There was a flash of green light, and then everything went black.

**James Potter died protecting the ones he loved.**


	2. Lily 31-10-81

**LILY**

_31__st__ October 1981_

Her life had been shattered in so many ways on the night of October the 31st, 1981. Her short life was already littered with horrors and tragedies that none should endure.

She was standing in her child's nursery, clutching at the one thing she had left in life. Her son.

The house was eerily quiet, but she knew that she wasn't the only one there. The blue walls of the room that had seemed so bright only hours ago now looked sad and forlorn. Shouts and bursts of laughter could be heard from outside, where other children were having fun. Where other children's' mothers' didn't have to worry about their lives every day.

She had just heard her husband being killed, and she was willing to do anything to make sure that her son didn't go the same way. The shout of the intruder and the thud of his body were unmistakable. It was true Her husband was dead.

She would never see him again, hear him again, and get to hold him again. His smiles were gone forever, _he_ was gone forever, and now both her son and she were being threatened to go the same way. She would never see him again.

The child in her arms squirmed. He didn't like the tight hold his mother had on him. She tenderly put him down in his cot and turned to face the danger.

She could hear his footsteps ascending the stairs. Slowly, tauntingly. She adopted a protective stance in front of the cot, and spread her arms out to shield him from view.

She was frightened. Scared. Petrified, even, but nothing would stop her from trying to save her only child.

Tears coursed down her young face, and she tried to hold her broken heart together for its last few moments. She had to stay strong for her son.

The snakelike head appeared in the doorframe. His robes swirled around him, electrified from the aura of his power. Lily tensed up. It was now or never. This is when she would die.

The murderer fixed his empty red eyes on the child behind the weeping woman. He made to approach him, but she blocked his way.

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!" she cried. Tears were falling freely down her face.

"Stand aside you silly girl," the cruel man ordered, "stand aside now."

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead!" she wept, throwing herself in front of the cot to block her son from any harm. She wasn't going to let this cold-hearted man touch her child.

"Not Harry! Please … have mercy … have mercy…" she was on her knees now, and had no wand in sight. Her son was still hidden behind her shaking body.

A shrill laugh erupted from the man's vile mouth. Did this woman really think she could protect her child from him? Voldemort raised his wand and, for the second time that night, he called the worst Unforgivable Curse.

"Avadra Kedavra!"

There was a flash of green light, and then everything went black.

The cruel man observed the young boy with a strange type of curiosity. He had been wrong before. This child looked exactly like his father, but with his mother's eyes.

The child was now crying. It had realised that his mother wasn't playing, and wasn't about to jump back up. He wanted his mother. The man could solve that.

He laughed again, once. It was high and cruel and didn't last for long. Voldemort raised his wand again, called the curse for the third time that night, and then it went black for everyone.

**Lily Potter died protecting the one she loved.**


	3. Peter(1) 01-11-81

**PETER, 1**

_1__st__ October 1981_

A cool breeze drifted through a small city nestled in the heart of countryside Surrey A couple of people looked around nervously, as if they knew something bad was about to happen. Distant-mindedly, they brushed it off.

The many people bustled around with their work and shopping in the middles of the street, and the shops had been open for few hours even though it was fairly early in the morning.

One man was sanding stock till, his small head rotating from side to side as if he was searching for someone. His hands fidgeted nervously in front of him, clasping and un-clasping. His nose twitched uncontrollably, and his unkempt air was wild around his face. Hi beady blue eyes darted around to observe his surroundings.

A large lorry drove past, its horn blaring. The man stiffened before relaxing – he had realised that the sound wasn't what he was waiting for.

The crowd parted to reveal a tall man. His usually well-combed hair was in messy disarray, as if he had run his hands through it several times in the night. His eyes were frantically moving around, glaring at anything that dared to get in his way. He growled menacingly under his breath, and the few people who heard scattered, frightened looks settling on their faces.

His odd clothing seemed to draw their attention more than his expression did – probably due to the fact that his long dark hair was hanging over his face, covering it from sight. The robes he wore had clearly been hastily slung on, and he was wearing mismatched shoes.

He strode through the busy ton square and his gaze locked onto that of the squat man. As his pace increased, the fidgeting of the other man tripled in speed. The expression of pure fury mixed with raw agony didn't seem to faze the short man.

He flinched, but didn't move. He seemed to brace himself for the onslaught he knew was coming.

The dark hared man snarled when he saw the other man in full. He roughly pushed aside any person who was near. His fists bunched up and he drew to a stop inches away from the other man's face. His furious eyes failed to deter the squirming man, although he had shifted so that he was leaning slightly away.

"Sirius." He whimpered sorrowfully. Sparks flew from the other man's eyes.

"Don't talk." He snarled. People began stopping to watch the confrontation with interest. "You disgust me." He shook his head slowly, his cruel glare scrutinising every inch of the meek man's body. His upper lip curled in repulsion.

"It can explain –" the other man started to reach out, as if to touch him for reassurance. Sirius Black drew back jerkily.

"Don't touch me." He threatened darkly. He was finally living up to his family traditions. "I know what you did? I've just come back from James and Lily's. How could you, Peter?" he was still talking quietly, but this was much more scary then any shouting. Then the table were turned.

"SIRIUS BLACK!" Pettigrew suddenly shouted, surprising Sirius into taking a step back. "YOU BETRAYED JAMES AND LILY!" it was out there for the whole street to hear. Sirius shook with fury – he was the innocent one. This was completely untrue.

Then Peter took out his wand, and Sirius Black somehow knew what was about to happen.

"REDUCTO EXPULSIO!" Pettigrew cried. A nearby wall collapsed as the street was blown apart. The world went silent as their ear drums were burst, and they seemed to be in their own world. Through the smoke, Sirius could just make out Peter pulling a rusty knife out of his pocket. He looked at it fleetingly for a second before slicing it over his open palm.

A small pink object came flying towards Sirius, and he stepped back again as he realised what it was. It was a finger. A scrappy rat gazed up at Sirius once, before scurrying off into the sewers.

The smoke cleared and Sirius could make out a huge scene of destruction. He could tell that at least 10 people had been killed. Maybe more.

Out of the disaster strode a group of men clad in dark blue robes. They fixed their eyes on Sirius. He knew that he wouldn't get a trail. Nobody would know he was innocent – they were either dead or traitors.

**Peter Pettigrew disappeared leaving only a finger.**

**Sirius Black went into Azkaban a lost man.**

**12 Muggles died with innocence.**


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